Bound by Honor Page 7

  “May I?”

  I startled at the distantly familiar voice that sent a thrill of fear through my body. Dante Cavallaro took the place of whomever I’d danced with before. He was tall, albeit not as tall as Luca, and not as muscled. “You don’t look impressed with the festivities.”

  “Everything’s perfect,” I said mechanically.

  “But you didn’t choose this marriage.”

  I gaped at him. His dark blonde hair and blue eyes gave him a look of cold efficiency while Luca radiated fierce brutality. Different sides of the same coin. In a few years the East Coast and Midwest would tremble under their judgement. I snapped my mouth shut. “It’s an honor.”

  “And your duty. We all have to do things we don’t want to. Sometimes it might seem as if we don’t have any choice at all.”

  “You are a man. What do you know about not having a choice?” I said harshly, then stiffened and ducked my head. “I’m sorry. That was out of turn.” I couldn’t talk to someone who was practically my Boss like that. Then I remembered he no longer was. I didn’t fall under the rule of the Chicago Outfit anymore. With my marriage, I’d become part of the New York mob and thus Luca’s and his father’s rule.

  “I think your husband is eager to have you back in his arms,” Dante said with a tilt of his head, then handed me over to Luca who gave him a hard look. Two predators facing off.

  Once we were out of earshot of Dante Cavallaro, Luca looked down at me. “What did Cavallaro want?”

  “Congratulate me on the festivities.”

  Luca gave me a look that made it clear he didn’t believe me. There was a hint of mistrust in his expression.

  The music stopped and Matteo clapped his hands, silencing the guests. “Time to throw the garter!”

  Luca and I stopped as the guests gathered around the dance floor to watch the show. A few even stood on chairs or held up their kids so everyone could get a good look. Luca knelt before me under the cheers of our guests and raised his eyebrows. I gripped my gown and lifted it up to my knees. Luca slid his hands up my calves, over my knees and up my thighs. I stilled completely at the feel of his fingers on my naked skin. Goose-bumps erupted all over my body. The touch was light and not uncomfortable, and yet it terrified me.

  Luca’s eyes were intent as they watched my face. His fingers brushed the garter on my right thigh and he pushed my gown up for everyone to see, revealing the entire length of my leg. I gripped the hem and he put his arms behind his back, then he bent over my thigh, his lips brushing the skin under the garter. I sucked in a deep breath but tried to keep my face in happy-bride mode. Luca closed his teeth around the edge of the garter and pulled it down my leg until it landed in a heap at my white high heels. I raised my foot so Luca could pick the piece of lace up. He straightened and presented the garter to the applauding crowd. I forced a smile and clapped as well. The only person who wasn’t smiling was Gianna.

  “Bachelors,” Luca called in his deep voice. “Gather around. Maybe you’ll be the lucky one to marry next!”

  Even the youngest boys stepped forward, Fabiano among them. He was scowling. Mother had probably forced him to participate. I winked at him and he poked out his tongue. I couldn’t help but laugh, the first genuine gesture I’d managed during the wedding feast.

  Luca’s eyes darted toward me, a strange expression on his face. I quickly looked away. Luca raised his arm, the garter in his fist before he thrust it into the cluster of waiting men.

  Matteo snatched it out of the air with an impressive lunge. “Any willing Outfit ladies out there that want to further the bond between our families?” he boomed, wiggling his eyebrows.

  Cheering and laughter sounded from many married and unmarried women. Of course, Lily was among them, jumping up and down with a bright smile. Everything was a game for her. I didn’t want Matteo’s eyes on her, I didn’t even want her name in his mind when he thought of marriage. As was tradition he had to pick an unmarried woman to dance with.

  Luca stepped close to me, his arm sneaking around my waist in casual possessiveness. I flinched at the unexpected contact and Luca’s body became rigid.

  Matteo extended his hand toward Lily who looked close to exploding from excitement over being chosen. My chest tightened. I knew it was a joke right now. Nobody took a fourteen-year-old girl seriously.

  As Luca and I waltzed over the dance floor, I kept an eye on Lily and Matteo. His hand was high on her back, his expression teasing. He didn’t look like a man who’d set his eyes on his future wife.

  “If my brother married your sister, you’d have family in New York,” Luca said.

  “I won’t let him have Lily.” The words were fierce. How could I be tough when it came to protecting my sister but not when it was about me?

  “It’s not Lily he wants.”

  My eyes flew to Gianna who stood with her arms wrapped around her chest, eyes like a hawk as they followed us. Father wouldn’t give away another of his daughters to New York. If he wanted to strengthen the position of our family in the Chicago Outfit, he needed to make sure he had enough family around him. After the waltz was over, a faster beat began and the dance floor was once again flooded with guests.

  Luca started dancing with my mother and I used the moment to slip away. I needed a few moments to myself or I’d lose it. I lifted my gown off the ground and hurried to the edge of the garden where grass met the bay before I walked down the few steps that led to the dock where a yacht was lying in wait. To my right a long beach stretched out. The ocean was black under the night sky and the breeze tugged at my dress and ripped strands from my updo. I stepped out of my high heels and jumped off the dock, my feet landing in the cool sand. Closing my eyes, I listened to the sound of the waves. The wooden boards creaked and I tensed before glancing over my shoulder and spotting Gianna. She shook off her own shoes and joined me on the beach, wrapping an arm around me.

  “Tomorrow you’ll leave for New York and I’ll head back to Chicago,” she whispered.

  I swallowed hard. “I’m scared.”

  “Of tonight?”

  “Yes,” I admitted. “Of tonight and every night that follows. Of being alone with Luca in a city I don’t know, surrounded by people I know even less, people who might still be the enemy. Of getting to know Luca and finding out he’s the monster I think he is. Of being without you and Lily and Fabiano.”

  “We will come to visit as often as Father allows it. And about tonight.” Gianna’s voice turned hard. “He can’t force you.”

  I let out a choked laugh. Sometimes I forgot that Gianna was younger than me. These were the moments that reminded me. “He can. He will.”

  “Then you’ll fight him with all you’ve got.”

  “Gianna,” I said in a whisper. “Luca is going to be Capo dei Capi. He’s a born fighter. He’ll laugh at me if I try to resist. Or my refusal will make him angry and then he’ll really want to hurt me.” I paused. “Bibiana told me I should give him what he wants, that I should try to make him be good to me, try to make him love me.”

  “Stupid Bibiana, what does she know?” Gianna glared at me. “Look at her, the way she cowers in front of that fat fool. How she lets him touch her with his sausage fingers. I’d rather die than lie under a man like that.”

  “Do you think I can make Luca love me?”

  Gianna shook her head. “Maybe you can make him respect you. I don’t think men like him have a heart to be capable of love.”

  “Even the most cold hearted bastards have a heart.”

  “Well, then it’s as black as tar. Don’t waste your time on love, Aria. You won’t find it in our world.”

  She was right of course, but I couldn’t help hoping.

  “Promise me you’ll be strong. Promise me you won’t let him treat you like a whore. You are his wife.”

  “Is there a difference?”

  “Yeah, whores at least get to sleep with other men and don’t have to live in a golden cage. They are better off.”

/>   I snorted. “You are impossible.”

  Gianna shrugged. “It made you smile.” She turned and her expression darkened. “Luca sent his lapdog. Maybe he was worried you’d run.”

  I followed her gaze to find Romero standing at the crest of the small hill overlooking the bay and the dock.

  “We should have taken that yacht and run away.”

  “Where could I run? He’d follow me to the end of the world.” I glanced at the elegant golden watch around my wrist. I didn’t know Luca, but I knew men of his kind. They were possessive. Once you belonged to them, there was no escaping. “We should go back. The wedding cake will be presented soon.”

  We put our shoes back on and walked back toward the noise. I ignored Romero but Gianna scowled at him. “Does Luca need you for everything? Or can he at least take a piss on his own?”

  “Luca is the groom and needs to attend to the guests,” Romero said simply, but of course it was a reprimand in my direction.

  Luca’s eyes settled on me the moment I returned to the festivities. Many guests were already drunk, and some had moved up to where the pool was and were taking a swim fully clothed. Luca held his hand out and I bridged the distance between us and took it. “Where were you?”

  “I just needed a moment to myself.”

  There was no time for further discussions as the cook rolled a table with our wedding cake toward the center. It was white, had six tiers and was decorated with peach flowers. Luca and I cut it under another round of applause, followed by ‘Bacio, Bacio’ and put the first piece onto our plate. Luca picked up a fork and fed me a bit as a sign that he’d provide for me, and I then fed him a piece as a sign that I’d take care of him as a good wife was supposed to.

  It was close to midnight when the first shouts rang out that suggested Luca and I retire to the bedroom. “You wed her, now bed her!” Matteo shouted, throwing his arms up and bumping into a chair. He’d drunk his fair share of wine, whiskey, Grappa and whatever else he could get his hands on. Luca, on the other hand, was sober. The small inkling of hope I’d harbored that he’d be too drunk to consummate our marriage evaporated. Luca’s answering grin, all predator, all hunger, all want, made my heart pound in my chest. Soon most of the men and even many women joined in the chorus.

  Luca rose from his chair and I did the same, even though I wanted to cling to it with desperate abandon, but I had no choice. A few looks of understanding and compassion from other women were directed my way, but they were almost as bad as the jeering.

  Gianna rose from her chair but Mother gripped her upper arm, holding her back. Salvatore Vitiello shouted something about a bed sheet, but the sound and colors seemed dimmed to me, as if I was trapped in fog. Luca’s grip around my hand as he led me toward the house was the only thing keeping me in motion. My body seemed on autopilot. A large crowd, mainly consisting of men, followed after us, their chant of “Bed her, Bed her!” growing louder as we entered the house and ascended the staircase toward the second floor where the master bedroom was. Fear was an insistent throbbing in my chest.

  I tasted copper and realized I’d bitten the inside of my cheek hard. We finally arrived in front of the dark wooden double doors of the master bedroom. The men kept clapping Luca’s back and shoulders. Nobody touched me. I would have wilted if they had. Luca opened the door and I walked in, glad to bring some distance between the leering crowd and myself. The shouting rang in my head and it was all I could do not to clamp my hands over my ears. “Bed her! Bed her!”

  Luca slammed the door shut. Now we were alone for our wedding night.

  CHAPTER SIX

  The commotion in front of the door stopped except for Matteo who was still shouting lewd suggestions of what Luca could do to me, or I to him.

  “Shut up, Matteo, and go find a whore to fuck,” Luca shouted.

  Silence reigned outside. My eyes wandered toward the king-sized bed in the center of the room and terror gripped me. Luca had his own whore to fuck tonight and until the end of days. The price for my body hadn’t been paid in money, but it might as well have been. I wrapped my arms around my middle, trying to quench my panic.

  Luca turned around to me with a predatory look on his face. My legs turned weak. Maybe if I fainted, I’d be spared, and even if he didn’t care if I was conscious and took me anyway, at least I wouldn’t remember anything. He thrust his jacket over the armchair next to the window, the muscles in his forearms flexing. He was muscle and strength and power, and I might as well have been made from glass. One wrong touch and I would shatter.

  Luca took his time admiring me. Wherever his eyes touched my body, they branded me as his possession, the word ‘mine’ edged into my skin over and over again.

  “When my father told me I was to marry you, he said you were the most beautiful woman the Chicago Outfit had to offer, even more beautiful than the woman in New York.”

  To offer? As if I was a piece of meat. I dug my teeth into my tongue.

  “I didn’t believe him.” He stalked up to me and grabbed my waist. I swallowed the gasp and forced myself to be still as I stared at his chest. Why did he have to be so tall? He leaned down until his mouth was less than an inch from my throat. “But he told the truth. You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, and tonight you are mine.” His hot lips touched my skin. Could he feel the terror pounding in my veins? His hands on my waist tightened. Tears pressed against my eyeballs, but I forced them back. I wouldn’t cry, but Grace’s words slammed into my brain. He’ll fuck you bloody.

  Be strong. I was a Scuderi. Gianna’s words flashed in my mind. Don’t let him treat you like a whore.

  “No!” The word ripped from my throat like a battle cry. I wrenched myself away from him, stumbling a few steps back. Everything seemed to still then. What had I just done?

  Luca’s expression was stunned, then it hardened. “No?”

  “What?” I snapped. “Have you never heard the word ‘no’ before?” Shut up, Aria. For God’s sake shut up.

  “Oh, I hear it often. The guy whose throat I crushed he said it over and over and over again until he couldn’t say it anymore.”

  I took a step back, bristling. “So you’re going to crush my throat too?” I was like a cornered dog, biting and snapping, but my opponent was a wolf. A very big and dangerous wolf.

  A cold smile twisted his lips. “No, that would defy the purpose of our marriage, don’t you think?”

  I shuddered. Of course, it would. He couldn’t kill me. At least not if he wanted to maintain peace between Chicago and New York. That didn’t mean he couldn’t beat or force himself on me. “I don’t think my father would be happy if you hurt me.”

  The look in his eyes made me take another step back. “Is that a threat?”

  I averted my eyes from his. My father might risk war over my death – not because he loved me, but to keep face –, but definitely not over a few bruises or rape. For my father it wouldn’t even be rape; Luca was my husband and my body was his to take whenever he wanted. “No,” I said softly. I hated myself for being submissive like a bitch bowing to her alpha, almost as much as I hated him for making me do it.

  “But you deny me what’s mine?”

  I glared. Damn being submissive. Damn my father for selling me off like cattle, and damn Luca for accepting the offer. “I can’t deny you something that you don’t have the right to take in the first place. My body doesn’t belong to you. It’s mine.”

  ‘He will kill me’, the thought shot through my mind a second before Luca drew himself up before me. Six foot five was scarily tall. I saw his hand move in my peripheral vision and flinched in anticipation of the blow, my eyes slamming shut. Nothing happened. The only sound was Luca’s harsh breathing and the pounding of my pulse in my ears. I risked a peek up at him. Luca was staring at me, his eyes like a stormy summer sky. “I could take what I want,” he said, but the viciousness was gone from his voice.

  There was no use denying it. He was much stronger than me. And even
if I screamed nobody would come to my help. Many men in my and Luca’s family would probably even hold me down to make it easer for him, not that Luca would have any trouble restraining me. “You could,” I admitted. “And I would hate you for it until the end of my days.”

  He smirked. “Do you think I care about that? This isn’t a marriage of love. And you do already hate me. I can see it in your eyes.”

  He was right on both accounts. This wasn’t about love and I hated him already, but hearing him say it crushed the last bit of foolish hope I had. I didn’t say anything.

  He gestured at the squeaky clean sheets of the bed. “You heard what my father said about our tradition?”

  My blood turned ice cold. I had, but until now I’d put it out off my mind. My courage had been for nothing. I stepped up to the bed and stared down at the sheets, my eyes boring into the spot where the proof of my lost virginity would have to be. Tomorrow morning the women of Luca’s family would knock at our door and take with them the sheets to present them to Luca’s and my father, so they could inspect the proof of our consummated marriage. It was a sick tradition, but not one I could evade. The fight drained out off me.

  I could hear Luca coming up behind me. He grasped my shoulders and I closed my eyes. I wouldn’t make a sound. But not crying was a losing battle. The first tears already clung to my lashes, then dripped onto my skin and burned a trail down my cheeks and chin. Luca slid his hands over my collarbones, then down to the edge of my dress. My lips quivered and I could feel a tear dropping from my chin. Luca’s hands tensed against my body.